


Outside the Anchor: Clan Lavellan Vignettes

by kwfliy



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Childhood Friends, Dalish Elves, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Gen, Minor Romantic Subtext, Missing Scene, Origin Story, Prologue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25556113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwfliy/pseuds/kwfliy
Summary: An expansion on Lyneril Lavellan’s clan and family. There's nothing that really contradicts canon, but it's pretty much all original characters and my version of events. Being vignettes, the stories/chapters may not end up linear.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Original Character(s)





	Outside the Anchor: Clan Lavellan Vignettes

**Author's Note:**

> These are the events leading up to Lyneril Lavellan leaving her clan for the Conclave. I tried to write it in a way that can be followed while having very little exposition. I may or may not have succeeded. This is the first thing I've written in a while so I hope there's not too much rust.

“Do you know what this is about?” Tamrith asked, seating himself beside his brother on one of the log benches circling the campfire.

Threlis shook his head. “The Keeper only said everyone needs to be here.”

The woman on Threlis' other side smiled. “Every  _ adult _ .” Nesiane said. “Mahvir and Ilren immediately took the opportunity to run off and look for trouble, I’m sure of it.”

Threlis tussled Tamrith’s hair. “Thank the Creators you're too old to get into mischief now. Mythal knows what you and Lyneril got up to.”

Tamrith pulled away impatiently, his face growing warm. “We didn’t get up to anything.”

“Nothing that was your idea, anyway.” Threlis laughed. “Where is Lyneril, anyway?”

Tamrith glanced around, eyes peeled for dark hair and gangly limbs somewhere in the gathering crowd. “I don’t know. I told her about this earlier, she should be-”

He was cut off by a sudden hush as Keeper Deshanna took her spot before the couple dozen clan members now seated together. The Keeper was an elderly woman; her hair was a dark gray and the wrinkles on her face intertwined with the weaving lines of her vallaslin. Her eyes traveled through the crowd, taking an account of everyone present. Tamrith’s insides churned out of anxiety for Lyneril, who was definitely not there.

“Thank you all for attending. This is an urgent matter; I received news yesterday from Clan Sabrae. According to Keeper Sarel's, a council is to be held in Ferelden. The Chantry’s Divine is bringing together the leaders of the templars and mages. She hopes to bring an end to the conflict.”

There were some interested murmurs, but most of the clan waited quietly for her to continue.

“We cannot rely on outside sources for consistent information. There is no guarantee whatever happens at this Conclave will reach us promptly. We should be aware of every outcome, as this will affect our people regardless of our involvement.” The Keeper looked troubled. “I must therefore ask something of you. It would be impossible, and irresponsible, for the entire clan to move south. I believe the only solution is to send a single person. One Dalish elf can avoid suspicion in a way a clan or even a small group cannot.”

It was Deshanna’s First, Iseren, who spoke before anyone else. “Send them to Ferelden?” She sounded skeptical; Ferelden was a ways away.

“Not just to Ferelden, but to the Conclave itself.” said the Keeper.

There was a short silence.

“You say this is a Chantry council? And the templar leaders will be in attendance? Is this wise?” Hahren Eselle asked, her pointed features anxious.

“It is our only option. I will not force anyone to go, but I believe it is in our best interest to do this.”

Tamrith’s eyes roved around his clanmates. Some looked nervous and others nodded confidently. He glanced at Threlis, who appeared to be deep in thought. Nesiane was also watching him, her eyebrows knitted. She caught Tamrith’s eye and he knew she was worried about what her husband might do.

“We need someone who is able to travel the distance to Ferelden. To the Frostbacks, specifically. Who is willing to travel by sea and able to withstand the cold.”

Tamrith was sure his brother was about to speak and he beat him to the punch. “I’ll do it.” he said quickly. He felt those words floating in the air, foolish sounding in their confidence.

The other clan members turned to him. Threlis looked surprised, then gave him a stern look. The Keeper considered him carefully.

“You are too inexperienced, Tamrith.” said Threlis. Nesiane nodded in agreement.

Tamrith felt a prickle of irritation. He understood why his brother was so protective of him, but it didn’t make it any less annoying. “I’m twenty-six.” he said, sitting up straight. “I have proven myself to be a good hunter, have I not? I can endure traveling such a distance.”

“I believe you can.” said Keeper Deshanna.

“And I have experience with humans.” he added.

Threlis looked at him in exasperation. “Tamrith, we left the city when you were four. What experience does that give you, exactly? If that is your argument, then it makes more sense that I should-”

“No.” Nesiane said firmly, and Threlis did not continue his thought.

It was now Feyren, Lyneril’s uncle, who opened his mouth to speak, but the Keeper put her hand and he rolled his eyes.

“Tamrith, if you are willing to do this, I see no reason why you can’t.” Keeper Deshanna said.

Tamrith tried to look confident, but it felt as though there was a swarm of insects in his stomach.

The meeting went on a little longer with the Keeper relaying the rest of the information she had. When the clan was dismissed, the Keeper motioned Tamrith over. He obeyed, avoiding his brother’s eye.

“We will discuss the logistics of your journey shortly, but first I would like you to find Lyneril. I am sure you noticed she was not in attendance. Do you have any idea where she may be?”

_ Lyneril _ , Tamrith thought with a jolt, how was he going to tell her? He nodded at the Keeper. “Yeah, I have an idea. I’ll look now.”

“Thank you, da’len.” She gave him an appraising look. “If you prefer, I can tell her about the plan.”

Tamrith smiled gratefully. “That might be a good idea.”

***

The pressure of telling his best friend about his decision himself may have been lifted off him, but that made facing her no less anxiety-producing. Lyneril had an uncanny ability to see right through people. This didn’t typically impact Tamrith, who made an active effort to be honest, but that also meant he had little practice keeping secrets — she was bound to know something was up.

He didn’t know for sure where she was, but since the mage rebellion had begun she was spending more and more time off by herself. He knew why, too, even if she refused to give a reason. She was worried. She had a habit of isolating herself when she needed to process something difficult; this was hardly the first time.

Several minutes into zigzagging through the trees surrounding camp, Tamrith spotted his friend sitting cross-legged on an old tree stump.

“Lyn?” he called out as soon as she was in earshot.

Lyneril didn’t answer or make any indication she heard him. He sighed and circled around the stump to face her. She was playing with one of her daggers and didn’t raise her head to acknowledge him. Tamrith, feeling a mixture of irritation and sympathy, sat down on the grass and patiently waited for her to respond.

“Lyn.” he repeated after a minute of silence.

She finally spoke, her eyes still on her weapon. “Tam.”

“Where have you been?”

“Here.”

Tamrith rolled his eyes. “I know. Why?” 

Lyneril clearly noticed the impatience in his voice because she finally looked up. “Did she notice?”

“Yes, she did.”

"Fenedhis." she cursed under her breath.

"You really thought she wouldn't?"

There was more silence. Lyneril looked slightly guilty. As stubborn as she could be, he knew she still deeply respected the Keeper. "Did she ask you to find me?"

Tamrith didn’t respond; she already knew the answer to that. Instead, he got to the point. "Why didn't you come?"

She shrugged. She could be very frustrating to talk to when she was in this kind of mood. “Was there... any news?” she asked.

"About Athera, you mean."

She gave him a wary look, as if afraid his expression would betray bad news. 

"The Keeper still hasn't heard anything about Clan Sulan. In specific. There's nothing to suggest they're not okay."

"There's nothing to suggest they are okay, either."

He didn't know how to answer that. "There is news from Ferelden, though.” Tamrith’s heart beat quickly and he ran a hand through his tawny hair. Seeing Lyneril's face, he added quickly, "It's not bad. It might be good, even. That's what the meeting was about."

Her interest seemed to dwindle now she knew whatever was discussed didn’t involve her sister. "What does Ferelden have to do with anything?"

Tamrith proceeded to fill her in on what the Keeper had told them about the so-called Divine Conclave.

Lyneril furrowed her brows. "They're going to end the war with a meeting?"

"The Keeper said that the mages and templars are willing to compromise."

"What kind of compromise?" she asked skeptically.

Tamrith shrugged. "We don't have a lot of information. That... was also part of the meeting. How we'll keep track of what happens." He knew his uneasiness must be obvious. "Listen, let's just go back to camp, okay? You can find out more from the Keeper."

Lyneril eyed him suspiciously. “Can’t you just tell me now?”

“I could try, but the Keeper can explain it better.”

Mercifully, she didn’t interrogate him any further. She stood up with a sigh and sheathed her blade. "Let's go."

***

The two elves made their way through camp, passing by clan members busy with afternoon work. Lyneril noticed several looked in their direction with interest and perhaps concern. They approached one of the larger aravels, in front of which Keeper Deshanna poured over some scrolls, leaning on her heartwood staff.

"Keeper?" Lyneril began, her stomach clenching uncomfortably.

Keeper Deshanna looked up from her reading and surveyed her. "Ah, here she is. Thank you for finding her, da'len." she said to Tamrith. "I would like to speak to both of you.”

"I know I missed the meeting." Lyneril said quickly. "Ir abelas, Keeper, I just, I didn't..."

The Keeper looked a bit cross but her tone remained kind. "I know, da'len."

"I told her about the Conclave." Tamrith said. “A little bit.”

Keeper Deshanna rolled up the scrolls and placed them in the chest next to her. "Whatever decisions are made, or not made, at this Divine Conclave will likely have a large impact on all of Thedas. It will affect the Dalish, not just the shemlen and city elves. You understand that?"

"Yes." Lyneril said slowly. She glanced over at Tamrith, who for some reason avoided her gaze.

"That is why we are sending someone from the clan to observe the Conclave."

Lyneril made a face. "The  _ Divine _ Conclave? Keeper, isn’t that too dangerous? I can't imagine our people are welcome."

"No, we are not. Considering the Chantry and human presence, it will indeed be a dangerous task. We need to send someone who can get in without being seen. We cannot afford to start an incident with the Chantry." Keeper Deshanna looked at Tamrith, then back at Lyneril. "It appears this person will be your uncle."

“Wait, what?” Tamrith blurted out, looking shocked.

The Keeper put a wizened hand on Tamrith’s shoulder. “I know I agreed you could go, and I have no doubt in your abilities, but Feyren is older and more experienced in the ways of stealth. He has the ability to travel there and back undetected.”

Lyneril turned angrily towards Tamrith. “You were going to go? When were you going to tell me?”

“I-now?" Tamrith looked sheepish. "I thought the Keeper would explain...”

Of course. Of course Tamrith would task someone else to break bad news. Lyneril faced the Keeper before he finished his sentence. "And now Feyren is going?” Her heart sank. "What if he gets caught? What if he’s killed? Ilren can't lose another parent." She tried to keep her voice level, but the look on Keeper Deshanna's face told her the woman knew exactly what was on her mind.

The Keeper shook her head. "I know this, and the thought of losing another of your family gives me no happiness. It is instrumental, however, that we keep informed."

"I can go Keeper," argued Tamrith. "I know how to keep hidden."

"Dirtha'o'masa." Lyneril snapped.

Tamrith made to respond in indignation, but Keeper Deshanna, now looking irritated, cut off his response. "That's enough, Lyneril. Tamrith, I appreciate your willingness to go, but you are not the right person for this task."

"Feyren wants to do this?" Lyneril asked, but she knew the answer already. He was probably the one who convinced the Keeper to change her mind.

"He volunteered."

She felt a pang of anger. "When does he leave?"

"Very soon. We received this news much too late."

"Ma serannas, Keeper. May I be excused?"

Keeper Deshanna looked at her solemnly and nodded. "He is confident in his decision, da'len. If you are seeking to change his mind, I would not get your hopes up."

"Lyn..." Tamrith began weakly, but Lyneril turned on her heel and set off.

***

Lyneril walked far from the outskirts of camp, this time in the opposite direction from her own hiding spot. She eventually heard the telltale signs of arrows hitting wood and entered a clearing where an elf was practicing archery. She walked up to Feyren, who lowered his bow when he noticed her. He was a man in his late forties with long black hair streaked with gray. He gave her a wide, crinkly smile that she didn't return.

"Where did you get off to today?" he asked, his tone frustratingly casual.

Lyneril wasn't interested in pretense. "The Keeper told me what you're going to do. What in the name of the Creators are you thinking?" Her words came out more harshly than she intended.

Feyren's smile faded. "It is my duty, da'len."

"Ma'harel, hahren. Your duty is to your family. To Ilren. What happens if you don't come back? How do we explain to him yet another person didn't want him?"

This seemed to surprise her uncle. "'Didn't want him?' You think I'm abandoning the boy?" Feyren was frowning now. "And do not speak as though Deya did so, either. Even the shem wanted what was best for him."

"You truly think he believes that? You of all people should know what he'll think if you die."

It was not often that the family referenced her grandmother. Unsurprisingly, Feyren looked uncomfortable. He busied himself with his bow.

"What about grandfather? You think he wants to lose another child?"

At this, Feyren actually chuckled. "Oh, I'm sure Alaren would be inconsolable." He notched an arrow in his bow and raised it again, aiming carefully at a tree some ways away. He let the arrow fly, saying as he did, "Who else do you suggest make the journey? Threlis?” There was a thump as his arrow hit its mark. “He also has a child to take care of. He has Nesiane and Tamrith." Feyren paused to give her a wink. "You should be thanking me, actually. Your boy offered to go. I volunteered instead.”

“I know.”

“Would you rather him go than me?”

“I don’t want either of you to go. And he’s not ‘my boy’.” she added.

“If you say so.” Feyren said with a laugh.

Lyneril ignored him. "There are plenty of other people. Mealon -"

"Is not even an apprentice." Feyren interrupted. He released another arrow. Thump.

She hesitated as she considered the idea that had been hovering at the edge of her mind. “I could go."

"You are barely older than Tamrith." he said dismissively.

"So what? The only reason Tamrith shouldn't go is because he's about as stealthy as a blindfolded bear. I have all the same skills you have; you made sure of that. I can stay hidden as well as you can.”

Feyren shook his head as another arrow flew through the air. “Your mother would not allow it.”

“She has no say over what I do. No one does. I’m an adult.”

Feyren turned to look at Lyneril again, the smile back on his face. “As am I. This rule does not apply to me?”

“I don’t have a child depending on me.”

“You have a mother. Were you not just using my father to guilt me into staying? I would hazard a guess that Mihlle would be more upset at losing another of her children than my father would at losing another of his.”

“Athera isn’t lost. She isn’t dead.”

“Neither is Deya.”

Both were quiet for a moment. Their confident statements did not hide the reality that neither were sure of their sisters’ fates.

Feyren lowered his bow again and took a few steps towards Lyneril. He looked at her shrewdly, his teal eyes unusually soft. “It is unlikely you could find her, you know. It is a big country. Clan Sulan may have left Ferelden for all we know. If you think this is a chance...”

Lyneril didn’t say anything. The thought had most certainly crossed her mind. What if Clan Sulan had the same idea as the Keeper? What if they were going to send someone, too? The clan might linger nearby. Maybe, after the Conclave was over, she could look. Maybe there’d be something, anything, to indicate whether the clan was alright. Whether her sister was alright.

“It is too dangerous, da’len. You have never left the Free Marches. You have never traveled on a ship.”

Lyneril snorted. “Neither have you.”

Feyren gave a mock bow. “But I am old and wise.”

“And expendable?” Lyneril said coolly.

Her uncle made a noise of frustration. “It is better... if the clan loses me rather than you.”

“That’s bullshit.” She could feel her temper reaching its boiling point. “Ilren needs you. So does my mother.”  _ So do I _ , but she didn’t speak that part aloud. "This is a great opportunity for you, isn't it?” she spat. “You can run away and everyone will call you a hero. And if you don't come back? Ilren can't complain, you were only doing your duty." She made sure to speak the next few words as contemptuously as she could. "You're a coward."

A flash of anger crossed Feyren's face, but it was gone in an instant. He looked defeated; for all his infamous pigheadedness, Lyneril found it easy to wear him down. Unfortunately, it was probably due to how alike they were. She knew where to prod.

Feyren rubbed his hand over his face. “Your father would not forgive me if I let you go. Not when I could have gone.”

“Considering he’s dead, that takes you off the hook, doesn’t it?” Lyneril gave him an icy look and he glared right back, scowling. It was one of those many times he seemed to revert back to a petulant little boy.

“We can discuss it at a later time.”

“There is no later time.”

“Fine!” he exclaimed contemptuously. “Fine, then. Go find the Keeper. Tell her you’re going. Tell your mother, too. Tell Tamrith. Make sure they all understand one of the youngest, most promising members of our clan is throwing herself into danger to spite her foolish uncle. Fen’Harel ma ghilana.” And with that Feyren turned his back on her, returning to his target practice.

***

The morning twilight cast a blue hue on the camp. The branches of the surrounding trees stretched like black veins into the steadily brightening sky. Lyneril tied her rucksack together before kneeling down before her collection of daggers. She traced her fingers across the hilts, considering, finally picking up her father’s ornate blade. Maybe taking it would give her luck. She had barely slept the last few nights and now that the time came to go, the full weight of what she was about to do was finally settling in on her. Feyren had been right. She had never traveled too far beyond the boundaries of the camp. She had never been away from the clan for more than a day or so. 

Clan Lavellan occasionally traded with humans, but Lyneril was never involved in these transactions. Tamrith’s brother Threlis had regaled the clan with his dim recollections of Tantervale, but considering a human led raid was what drove the boys to the Dalish, his memories of humans were less than charitable. Lyneril was not only going to place herself in a sea of humans, but the most religiously fervent of them. She’d seen a templar only once before. Given the task of lookout, she was sitting in the nook of a tree when she spotted the bulky figure. She remembered how their spotfess heavy armor gleamed in the sunlight, how the templar’s hand rested on their blade as their helmeted head surveyed the surrounding forest. Before she had to worry about what to do, the templar left the way they’d come. The clan made sure to be gone within the day.

Lyneril picked up two more daggers and sheathed them before stepping out into the dawn light, her backpack slung over her shoulder. She didn’t get more than a few paces before coming face to face with Tamrith.

“Oh. Hi.” she said rather awkwardly..

“You’re going now?” Tamrith asked, his voice hushed.

Lyneril crossed her arms. “There’s no point in arguing.”

“Have I so far?”

She softened. “... No, I know. I didn’t mean to - I’ll be fine, Tam.”

Tamrith didn’t seem convinced. The way he was looking at her, she worried he was going to cry. “I know you can take care of yourself.” he said, facing the ground and shuffling his feet. “I know you’ll be careful.” He looked back up at her and indeed his blue eyes were rather bright.

Partly to avoid eye contact, Lyneril pulled him into a hug.

His hands gripped her back. “Just... don’t die. Please.” His voice cracked. “I need you here. We all do.”

They parted after several moments and Lyneril attempted a reassuring smile. “It's only a couple of months. I’ll be back, I promise. All in one piece.”

Tamrith took a deep breath and glanced around camp. “Were you trying to sneak out?” He looked a bit hurt.

Lyneril grimaced. “You know I hate fanfare. I said goodbye to everyone last night. And I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I never fell asleep.” Tamrith said, waving a hand unconcernedly. He finally mustered up what could pass as a grin. “I won’t rat you out, lethallan.”

She smiled and gave him another quick hug, a kiss on the cheek, and headed towards the forest. She could feel her best friend’s eyes on her back, but she didn’t turn around again. As she passed through some bushes, she almost walked into the chipped stone statue of the Dread Wolf positioned at the edge of camp. She remembered her uncle’s words: Fen’Harel ma ghilana. She glared at the statue as she passed it. “No you don’t.”


End file.
